A Dark Turn
by grimorie
Summary: After Sailor Moon's battle with Galaxia, things were set to settle down but as Sailor Pluto was wont to say the Future is not set in stone. A forgotten enemy returns seeking vengeance against the Senshi. Everything's about to take a dark turn...
1. Prologue Prelude to recurrence

AUTHOR: Monic

FANDOM: Sailor Moon

RATING: R

SUMMARY_: After Sailor Moon's battle with Galaxia, things were set to settle down but as Sailor Pluto was wont to say the Future is not set in stone. A forgotten enemy returns seeking vengeance against the Senshi. Everything's about to take a dark turn... _

WARNINGS: Violence, mature themes

NOTES: This is an amalgam of the anime and manga but takes most of its resources from the manga. Set after Sailor Stars

A Dark Turn – Sailor Moon

By Monic

Book One – Gehenna

Prologue - Prelude to Recurrence

The Hikawa Shrine, noted for its peaceful ambience was, that evening, anything but. The shrine was in a riot of party preparations and Rei was in her element bossing people left and right, much to Usagi's chagrin.

"Why do we need so much decoration?" Groused Usagi, lost under boxes of ornaments, she finally dropped them on the floor. "It's not like were running a festival! And where is Mamo-chan!"

"Careful!" Rei glared at her then studied her list. "Mamoru-kun's helping Yuuichiro move the stereo."

A huffing and puffing figure staggered into the room. "This-" Huffed Minako, "is torture!" She glared at Rei, "why aren't you doing anything besides boss us around!"

"This is my home, let's talk when we have a party in yours." Rei said with a disdainful sniff, which wouldn't happen at all, since it's been part of tradition to hold any and all occasion at the Hikawa shrine. Especially this party, the After Apocalypse party, as Makoto dubbed it.

Usagi rubbed her sore back, almost regretting reminding Rei about the party. Hotaru ran pass them, giggling as Ami ran after her screaming something that sounded like, "Don't drop the vial!"

"Haruka!" Rei said, distracting Usagi from the spectacle. The tall sandy blond froze at the doorway and slowly turned. "Rei?"

"How are you?"

"I'm good." She answered, wary.

"That's good." Rei beamed at her and suddenly threw something white and heavy. Instinctively Haruka caught it. Haruka stared, dumbfounded at the white cloth in her hands. "Could you and Mamoru-kun hang that, I'll just get Mamoru-kun, thanks Haruka-san, you're a dear."

"What-- but—" Haruka began and broke-off when she realized she was talking to nothing but thin air. "Damn."

"We feel your pain," Minako said, unloading her burden on the low table. "But mostly I feel my own."

"You know, dinner was a fine tradition." Usagi said. The 'After apocalypse party' wasn't as Usagi had envisioned it when she brought it up again. She thought it would be the same quiet dinner thing they always did.

"Oh, we always have dinners after Apocalypses," Minako said dismissively. "At least now, it's a real apocalypse party."

"A party of ten?" Haruka put-in amused.

Somewhere there was a loud crash, Usagi jumped. Not long after Rei started screaming: "Yuuichiro, you idiot!" Usagi winced in sympathy.

"Geez. The mouth on that girl!" Minako said, as Rei's tirade grew louder and more colorful. "You'd never think she's a priestess-in-training the way she's going."

"Are you okay, Usagi-chan?" Haruka draped the white banner on her arm.

"Of course," Usagi said, smiling and dropping her hands to her sides, she noticed Minako do the same, albeit a lot more discreetly. "Why wouldn't I be?" She caught Minako looking at her as if she were figuring things out in her mind; in fact, Haruka had a similar expression on her face. "Haruka-san, do you know when Setsuna-san will arrive?"

"She isn't here yet?" Haruka asked perplexed. Usagi shook her head. "That's strange, she left with Hotaru and Michiru. Why? Did you need something from Setsuna?"

Usagi felt her heart sink. "No, I was just curious."

It wasn't exactly a lie, after all Setsuna already assured her that Chibi-Usa had survived the encounter with Galaxia. She knew it was rude and unseemly not trusting Setsuna's word but Usagi had seen, with her own eyes, Chibi-Usa fade out of existence. It was more than a little traumatic. Future or no, Chibi-Usa was still her daughter. Usagi had hoped for more news from Setsuna and she had promised to bring one tonight, she looked down at the box of decorations. Still, the night was young…

"Y'know for a guardian of time she's almost always late." Commented Minako.

"Late or," Haruka lifted the edge of the banner by her thumb and forefinger. "Smart."

Minako laughed, pointed up and posed dramatically. "Setsuna is my idol!"

"Get in line!"

Usagi opened her mouth to add her own comment when a whiff of stray wind ushered in the delicious scents from the kitchen; Usagi turned like a trained bloodhound to the direction of the delicious aromas.

Haruka was saying something but Usagi happily ignored her and made a beeline towards the scrumptious feast and found herself at the threshold of the kitchen. A wide wolf's grin curved her mouth.

Peering left and right Usagi confirmed that Rei was nowhere in sight and hurried in the kitchen and grounded to a stop. Makoto and Michiru were over the counter engrossed with their work and chatter to notice her. Usagi ducked behind the table and held her breath.

Just above her, somewhere were mouthwatering, juicy meat and chicken-- So near, yet so far…Slowly, Usagi lifted her hand, surely Makoto and Michiru won't miss one drumstick.

"I still have nightmares." Usagi heard Makoto say in a quiet voice, stilling her hands and her hunger. The chopping noise ceased, and the kitchen was silent for the longest time. Usagi lifted her head in time to see Makoto place her knife on the table.

"I mean we... died! And Usagi--" A frustrated sound escaped from Makoto she picked up the knife and ended her incoherent speech with a flourish of her knife.

"Yes, we did." Michiru said, even quieter.

"We died and she was all alone—" That was all Usagi could stand to hear she slipped out as quietly as she could. Out to the hall, past the rooms where her friends were laughing and arguing and pausing, briefly, to gather her coat from the rack and straight out into the night where there were no walls to suffocate her until she came to a stop in the pathway not too far from the stone steps. She stood there trapped between the desire to continue on and the uneasiness of straying too far from her friends.

All in all this was a good place to stop. It was quiet here save for the whisper of trees and the occasional sound of laughter from the house she had emerged from. So different from the past few months, when any given moment screams of distress could mean death and danger.

It was peaceful. Usagi liked it.

Usagi stared at her hand and at the ring Mamoru gave her before she looked up at the night sky, she could barely see the stars, but knew they were there innumerable and eternal.

_"I still have nightmares."_

Usagi shivered.

"Cold?"

Usagi jumped and flailed her arms uselessly before managing to raise them to defend herself, only to see the lean form of Mamoru. "Mamo-chan, don't scare me!"

"Sorry." He stuffed his hands on his pockets, contrite. Usagi grinned she couldn't help it he looked so cute, just like a little boy caught stealing from a cookie jar.

Mamoru returned her smile and reached for her hand, the one with the engagement ring, and tugged her close. His arms went around her, she turned into his embrace and buried her face on his chest. Usagi let out a sigh. Breathing in the scent of him, and savoring the solidity that was Mamoru. This was home. This was peace.

"What are you thinking?" His voice rumbled in his chest pleasantly against her ear.

"It's done, Mamo-chan, Setsuna said--"

"That it was our last battle until we're crowned." Mamoru finished for her. Usagi turned in his arms and gave him a mock frowned.

"Mamo-chan, if you're not going to let me finish, don't ask me!" She grinned then looked at him with eyes wide. "How did you manage to escape from Rei?"

"I have my ways," he said. A mischievous smile lit his face, and his eyes danced. Usagi's heart beat a little faster he opened his mouth to speak but changed his mind halfway and instead leaned in for a kiss that left her breathless.

Unexpectedly a blast of chill air blew through the yard lifting fallen leaves and sending icy cold fingers down her spine. Usagi pulled away and turned around, afraid. "What--?"

"Usako?"

She looked at Mamoru and saw a frown marring his brow, his slate blue eyes darting from her to the surroundings, as if his very stare could pierce the dark.

Usagi followed his gaze to the shrine, where her friends were in a riot of party preparations.

"Usa?" His voice full of concern and her heart was flooded with love.

"It's nothing," She said and stuck out her tongue. "I was just being silly."

Mamoru looked skeptical.

Usagi pouted. "You don't believe me!"

"I do!" He said, rushing in to assure her. She grinned at him, pecked him on the lips and danced away from his reaching arms.

"Hey, love birds, are you going to help with the party?" Rei shouted. Minako and Hotaru were standing beside her on the porch looking harassed.

"Nah. You're doing good work!" Usagi said, waving her hand airily.

Rei's eyebrow twitched, "Really?"

The others appeared behind Minako and Hotaru, looking at them, eyes sparkling with ill-concealed mirth. Then as one they raised their arms and pointed at Mamoru and Usagi, "In the name of love and justice, we will force you to help!"

"Charge!" Haruka shouted, and like a flood tide they charged at the hapless couple, laughing and colliding.

Usagi knew this was going to be the best night of her life.

Usagi tiptoed away from the room, where all the senshi were bunked for the night, and willed herself to be one with the shadows. It wasn't her fault, she reasoned, that she woke up in the middle of the night hungry. She did tell Rei acquiring the last three slices of cake was vital for her continued existence it was the solemn truth, it was Rei who chose to regard it. Rei was awfully closed minded about certain things for a priestess-in-training. Usagi took out a handkerchief from her pajama sleeve and tied it around her head and giggled.

She froze instantly, when a muttered grunt answered her, she waited for two beats and was extremely relieved she heard nothing else. Quietly as she could she crossed to one door until she and flattened herself to the wall and held her breath. She waited, staring at the patch of floorboard lit by moonlight.

Their ten-person party was a hit, lots of delicious food, music and dancing, except, for the fact that instead of a ten-person party, they were in reality, only nine since Setsuna did not come. Makoto joked about Setsuna mixing up dates in the Time Gate, Usagi doubted it, if there was one thing she knew about the enigmatic Guardian of Time it was that Setsuna had a purpose behind every action.

Her stomach growled reminding her of her mission. She patted it in consolation and resumed her quest, tiptoeing gingerly around every corner until she found herself at a crossroad. At one end of the corridor was the kitchen and at the other end, Yuuichiro's quarters where Mamoru was sleeping off the hangover he acquired after Rei's grandfather forced him to 'commemorate' his engagement.

Mamoru wasn't too happy about it but was too polite to decline hence their staying over the night. Her head swiveled from one side to the other in indecision, which to follow her heart or her stomach?

Standing alone in the cover of darkness, Usagi hit upon an inspired solution. She would rouse Mamoru and invite him to her midnight feast. Satisfied with her plan she crept towards Yuuichiro's room, passing through the shafts of moonlight and bathing her in a silver glow. The shadows lengthened feelings of trepidation made Usagi hesitate.

The corridor had gotten so dark she could barely make out the door at the end.

_Coward. _She chided herself. _It's just a corridor. Mamo-chan is there!_

She took a fortifying breath and bravely ventured into the dark corridor groping at the walls that inexplicably grew colder the further she went in. The corridor was longer than she remembered. Her heart pounded loud in her ears so much so it took her a while to realize that it was quiet.

There wasn't even the sound of trees rustling in the wind.

"Something's wrong." She whispered and almost jumped at the sound of her own voice.

Then she heard it: A slow and terrible creaking sound like a long unused door being pried open.

Usagi felt a terrible fear and a certainty that all was not as should be and she was suddenly all too aware that she was alone. There was a loud _thump_ that shook the floorboards, and another louder thump, closer this time and another.

"You can't come out yet!" She shouted. "It's not time!"

The shaking grew fiercer, Usagi fled screaming for Mamoru. She ran a few steps straight to Yuuichiro's quarters and abruptly collided with a barrier. It was a shoji.

Desperate with fear Usagi rammed the shoji, it gave under her weight and she burst in falling from the excess force straight into Yuuichiro's...

Garden?

Soft grass met her fall, she sat-up, startled at the blinding rays of sunlight when moments ago it was night. Her eyes hurt from the sudden light.

Grass was everywhere luminous in the light and further away was a hill and on it a rug of vivid violet and orange colored flowers. Usagi rose and was astonished to see she now wore the long white gown she wore as Princess Serenity and was even more chagrined to note she was barefoot. The grass was soft, damp and chilly under her feet.

Brushing a few stray blades of grass from her dress she noted the wet stain on her pristine ball gown. A breeze caught and tangled her hair she ran her hand on it and brushed it away from her face.

Breath still harsh from her sprint, she whirled around to glance behind her and was gobsmacked. There was no entranceway, no dark hallways, nothing that indicated that the whitewash stonewall was anything but what it was—Usagi tentatively, with shaking hands touched it—solid. _Where was she?_ She whirled from one side to another and tried to approximate where she was but only saw the lush green grass and the large whitewashed stone structure.

Suddenly she felt the ground shake, Usagi didn't have to be warned twice, she lifted her dress and fled, her feet slapping on the damp grass. She stretched out her hand and used the rough stonewall as guide, Usagi rounded a corner and was relieved to see a vaulting entryway that she was sure led to safety.

She entered, feet meeting cool marble and was surprised to find herself in the austere hallways of the Moon Castle.

"I have to keep on moving." She said urging herself on. Her voice echoed through the halls and ending in a rippling motion, changing the scene as the sound waves expanded outwards. Usagi halted to a stop and gaped as the scene shifted to her old junior high complete with Haruna-sensei and herself sleeping on the desk. On either side of her sleeping form were Endymion and Mamoru. Usagi opened her mouth to speak but her perspective changed, altered and she was the Usagi sleeping on her desk, in her classroom dreaming and seeing herself as Serenity standing by the door and Mamoru and Endymion behind her. She was happy for that but she was also getting hungry, she wondered when the food would come.

"Princess," a voice called, waking her from her dream-sleep, Usagi raised her head from the desk and found the scene had once again changed. She was in the garden, the one earlier, and somehow Usagi didn't care because Mamoru's arms around her.

"Was that you, Mamo-chan?"

"No, Usa," he began to kiss her lightly on her neck. Usagi sighed. She liked this dream better.

"Princess," the mysterious voice called again. This time she recognized the voice as Setsuna's. Usagi reluctantly focused at the edge of her dream, and there was Setsuna, garbed as Sailor Pluto, the Guardian of Time.

"Pluto?"

"Time is a stream, the outcome may never be the same."

"Setsuna-san, I know this." She said not unkindly and added. "You didn't come to the party, Setsuna-san."

Pluto spoke as if she didn't hear Usagi. "History will repeat, the past must be remembered. You must make your own destiny." Then as sudden as Pluto had appeared, she faded. Usagi frowned but let it pass. She relaxed into Mamoru's embrace but the garden began to blur and darken. She was waking-up, Usagi realized, she was reluctant to wake up it was so lovely and peaceful in her dream. Besides she was so tired after the battle with Galaxia and she had just gotten Mamoru back—

Oh.

Of course she wanted to wake, she coasted freely into consciousness, loving the feel of sleep and wakefulness and the warmth of the real Mamoru's touch. She had missed him so, and in the back of her mind a thought (Too long, too close, much missed) but her mind never ran to the dark place in her thoughts, of the chilling fear and emptiness when he was gone (dead).

Usagi buried further into his embrace, and soon blinked away her sleepiness. She smiled at the reflection of herself, Mamoru mumbled, his chest vibrating beneath her ears. Funny, her reflection wasn't smiling back.

Her hazy mind registered her reflection moving of its own volition, raised a too pale hand over her own chest and—

A scream tore from her throat as the hand plunged into her chest, the invasion inflaming parts Usagi did not know she had. She bucked up, writhing, trying to escape the pain. Pain. Pain.

But it was there, singular, present, moving inside, holding, gripping. Tormenting. Agonizing.

She could feel the hand, the fingers slipping and sliding inside her chest, searching…

"Usa!"

The relief was almost physical but the pain remained, she curled in on herself and through the haze of tears saw Mamoru, a tower of rage as he advanced on her attacker. Blurred with tears she saw her attacker lie prone on the floor, unmoving.

Usagi sobbed. She shook from the shock and pain, Mamoru looked from her attacker and to her. He produced five roses and threw them around her attacker's prone figure, trapping her attacker. Then he knelt gathering her into his arms. "Usa, It's alright, it's alright. I'm here…"

She wept into his chest, she couldn't help it, her insides stung, her lungs and things she didn't even knew existing under her ribs burned. She clung to him, it was only by chance she saw the glint of steel in the corner of her eye. Usagi turned her head and saw a shadow of a woman behind Mamoru. Mamoru tensed, sensing something amiss, and turned Usagi opened her mouth to shout but it was too late, and the blade sunk in his back with a meaty chunk.

"_No!_"

Mamoru jerked, a strangled yell escaped from his throat as he twisted, he threw off his attacker, Usagi struggled to her feet desperately trying to pull Mamoru away when a second knife appeared glinting, Usagi tried to twist, turn her body into a shield but Mamoru had also seen what she had seen. He held firm, pushed Usagi far from the knife and gasped loudly, painfully as it went up and under his ribs and Usagi's knees buckled as Mamoru fell into her arms. "Mamo-chan!"

Usagi could feel Mamoru's blood on her hands, her arms. "Usako--" He managed, choking. She was coated in his blood and his callused fingers brush against her own. His hands found her face she held his hands, willed him to live. "I'm sor—sorry."

Then his hands fall, nerveless, without life. The scene that played so regularly in her nightmares, reality in two lifetimes had come alive again.

No no no no no no.

There was pressure behind her eyes, her hands shook and she felt a scream build-up inside her. She touched his skin so pale and cold and so horrifyingly familiar. A keening wail finally broke through. She was a banshee, mourning for her death. She was at the very edge, sanity only a thin line to cross.

She didn't notice, nor would she have cared that she now wore white flowing robes or that the Silver Crystal floated above her flooding the room in pure white or the shadow moving forward, grabbed hold of the Crystal, diminishing its luminescence.

"Didn't I promise you this? Marked in stone, my words. Shh… Don't fret it's going to get worse." And then a white, soundless explosion filled the room.

And Usagi, cradling Mamoru in her arms couldn't care less…


	2. Chapter 1 Despair Behind and Death Befo...

Chapter 1 – Despair Behind and Death Before

Usagi sensed the darkness beyond her eyelids, heavy and ominous, and she thought, it didn't happen. It was a dream, a horrible ghastly dream. A nightmare. It did not happen. It. Was. Just. A. Dream.

"Wake-up." A voice demanded.

"Luna—"

A strong, vicious force clipped her ribs forcing breath to flood out. Usagi gasped, sat-up and cradled her ribs.

"What?" She stared blankly at the chain wrapped around her wrists. She raised her eyes and surveyed the room with a growing sense of horror. It was like looking through grimy blue stained glasses with only the tiny slivers of an orange glow from a squat, hulking iron furnace that roared and snapped like a demon but barely filled the room with heat, as relief. A series of blue naked bulbs ran overhead beside pipes that were alternately gleaming and rusting. The room itself was an amalgam of mud, wood and industrial steel and looked more like a cave carved into a vague shape of a room.

The air was damp and heavy with the smell of oil and something else she couldn't identify.

"You're finally awake." Usagi swung her head to the source of the sound and recoiled. A swarthy, short man wearing bulky winter clothes stood over her, he carried a long ebony rod in his right hand. He swung it ominously near her face. "Takes awhile to wake you, huh, pretty face?"

His voice was oily and the leer on his face sent shivers down her spine.

"What's your name?" He had a very thick accent that made it hard for Usagi to understand his words.

Her mouth was parched but she forced words to come out. "Usa—"

The rod swung hitting her squarely on the jaw. Pain exploded behind her eyes and Usagi screamed.

"Wrong."

Usagi tried to speak but the response was quicker than the last and the pain mounted. She wanted

to cry but it was too painful to do anything but let her tears fall, she pulled at the chains in a futile effort to escape but that earned her another strike. Why was he doing this to her?

"Again."

"N-nothing. I have no name." She flinched, squeezing her eyes tight expecting another painful blow from the rod.

"Good."

Her eyes flew open, she saw the man step forward and in the blue colored light she saw his waxen complexion and his small buttonhole eyes. Bile rose quickly as he leered at her, he reached out and clutched at her hair she whimpered at the sudden tension in her crown, adding to the throbbing pain in her jaw. "You are now the property of Her Majesty the Queen, you no longer exist outside of these mines. You are now C175, do you understand?"

"Y-yes."

"I don't think so." His eyes flickered to one side it was then Usagi realized that they were not alone. A man came forward carrying something short and dark that glowed orange at the end. It looked like a modernized branding iron.

Just before Usagi could react the short swarthy man held her down, the press of his body over hers sent an instinctual animal fear through her body and she reacted violently. He grunted at her kicks and elbow jabs and slapped her when she tried to bite him but nothing she did dislodged him.

"What are you waiting for?" The swarthy man hissed over his shoulder and from that Usagi was able to view the man with the branding iron advanced on them.

The brander came forward orange light flickered on his face and what she saw, what she saw made her blood run cold. It wasn't because he looked eager or evil; it was the fact that he looked _bored. _He's done it before and felt nothing, no sympathy, no outrage, she was only one of many people he had seen and branded. She was a job. Nothing more.

Usagi kicked out once more, desperate as he knelt and took hold of her right arm and twisted it until the underside of her wrists was exposed. The gleam of the branding iron registered a number C175.

"No!" Usagi screamed, "No! Please!" The brander took no notice of her screamed pleas, of her desperate struggles beneath the swarthy man and her ear splitting scream that made her throat sore. It was a violation she had never experienced before in her two lifetimes.

She never had to know how it was to fight and beg at the same time, never known real terror before, not with all her battles with daimons and monsters. Nothing compared to the reality of meaty, callused hands holding her down bodily as a branding iron came so close to her skin it scorched and the knowledge that whatever she does can not change the outcome.

She wanted it to be over, to be not real, wanted to wake-up and let it all be one long nightmare.

"Stop moving!" The swarthy man growled his beady eyes shone with anger and annoyance.

Blind to everything but escape she called to a source powerful enough to stop this brutality she dug into depths of her soul and found… nothing. No holy white fire, no freedom, nothing whatsoever but the inevitable.

The Silver Crystal was gone.

Her eternal source of power, vanished and in its place an empty gaping hole. She stopped breathing shock overcoming her system. She groped at the ground feeling the soft mud between her fingers, the loss alone should, would have killed her but a savage blow to her jaw jarred her from her suicidal trance. A copper tasting liquid filled Usagi's mouth, her head buzzed from the blow and a mist of darkness descended on her vision, enough, it would seem, to afford the man with the branding iron to do his job.

The brand hissed, finally meeting heat with soft skin, and if Usagi thought she screamed all she could, she was wrong. Her scream echoed on the walls, on an endless shrill, piercing note. The heat stung, seared, and pulled her whole awareness to a single point in her body. That tiny space of forearm, just above the manacles on her wrist, there her whole awareness stood, the brand burning her nerve endings the sensation the complete opposite of winter cold. She wanted to die, or failing that, she wanted unconsciousness anything just not to feel.

Mercifully her captor clubbed her on the head the darkness came quickly.

There was a new arrival in Cell K, whispered a busy body coming in from the mines the rumor spread quickly and fast on its heels were two guards carrying between them, a girl. She was a frail little thing, bruised and bloodied like all new arrivals and from the bandaged wrist, banded already with her new identity.

The guards stopped at the only unoccupied bunk and heaved the girl on it, she rolled and almost fell but didn't move. The guards wiped their hands on their pants and moved away, the second guard fell behind glancing at the girl then at the others with what could be called as pity but none of the prisoners saw, too busy looking away or making themselves scarce.

When Cell K was free of the guards not one stirred or expressed curiosity at the new arrival, there was nothing in her story they hadn't heard before. She was someone who offended the Queen or her court, or any of the higher ups capable of kidnapping her in broad daylight or dead of night and sentencing her, without trial, to the silicate mines.

They wrapped the scratchy comforter around them tightly as the blue lights were killed, closed their eyes and refused to be awake when the girl would wake screaming or crying.

"Who's she?" A cracked, old voice demanded.

A few lifted their heads at the sound and saw the old woman fresh from the mines, wiping the grime from her wrinkled face.

"New, is she?" The old woman said, answering her own question. No one bothered with her, it was too much effort and trouble better in their heat warmed scratchy comfort.

The old woman ambled to the girl clenching and unclenching her hands out of the cramps or rheumatism. She knelt beside the girl and studied the new arrival through the stain of blue from the entryway and saw a shock of silver hair sheared short, just below the nape of the neck. The old woman wondered at that, none of the prisoners ever had their haircut.

In the dim light she saw the face of the girl blackened by bruises and blood she clucked disapprovingly, the guards were always harsh to off worlders but they seemed especially harsh on the girl.

Gently she lifted the girl's right hand and read the girl's designated identity: C175. The girl's skin was milky and held the healthy sheen of a person accustomed to daylight. She lingered on the girl's soft skin, envying the vitality but knowing soon it would disappear in less than a year.

Shaking her head she took out an ointment from her pockets and began dabbing it on the girl's brand.

The old woman noticed the girl—no, she must acclimate to the serial given- C175's hands, soft and uncalloused, the hands of one who knew no work. Poor girl. With great care she turned C175's head to the side earning her the full view of C175's bruised jaw and—

The ointment slipped from her hand and was forgotten, mesmerized at the face before her. After half a century witness to all manner of capricious twists of fate the sensation of shock was disquieting.

…_you will know her by the sigil she shares with the tyrant…_ Impossible. She glanced at the other prisoners amazed that the guards failed to see this mark.

The old woman who in this life was branded as H895 and who was in another life was called Anima took no came to a decision, she took out strips of cloth she had managed to salvage from the recyclers, tore the strips into two. She hesitated, studied the ashen face under the azure hued illumination, H895's lips tightened with resolve and she began to wrap the strips of cloth around the unconscious girl's head.

Satisfied with her handiwork, she sat on her haunches feeling the ache in her bones and the perpetual chill of this planet and the questions chasing around her mind that she knew would be unanswered for a good long while, no matter she knew the value of patience.

H895 watched the uneasy breathing of the girl stirring pity in her heart whatever the answers were –_she will lose much and walk a path treaded with danger and death--_ the girl's path would be far from easy.

It was the cold that brought Usagi, shivering and chilled, to consciousness and with consciousness an immediate awareness of sensation that asserted itself in a singular identity that she's come to know so well in so short a time. She groaned, as something jostled her sore arm, but the movement kept repeating, kept dragging her arm up.

A voice kind, old and sounding like her grandmother muttered words Usagi didn't recognize. She replied with a groan and a choked sob. Every inch of her body screamed for attention and her right eye was heavy and swollen that Usagi was afraid she would never see through them. A cold rough compress was lowered on her face a leathery hand encouraged her stiff fingers to support the compress.

Usagi's uninjured eye opened and was surprised to see an old woman crouch beside her, it took a full minute before she realized that she was being forced into clothes she did not recognize.

"W…what are you doing t-to me?" Her mouth felt as if rocks were gathered in it.

The old woman spoke, again in words that was incomprehensible to her but nagged at the edge of Usagi's mind but the old woman's tone of assurance remained. The pervasive chill was unpleasant, insinuating itself in the most unlikeliest ways her throat was filled with fog and breathing was hard and her fingers…

Her left eye widened at the sensation, of not exactly heat but warmth. Relief flooded through her body, a tainted blue leathery face appeared in her line of sight presenting a crooked set of teeth. The old woman spoke and this time Usagi was certain that she should have understood the words but her mind fell short of translating it. Usagi also felt a certainty that the old woman was referring to the suit and the cold in what might be described as sardonic.

The old woman resumed her work, tucking her arm gently into the sleeves of the winter suit. The suit itself reminded Usagi of bulky winter wear she usually wore in the coldest winter days that hit Japan.

"Wh-where am I-I?"

It was the old woman's turn to look at her askance and this time through the cloud of pain she forced her mind to translate words the woman's words.

"Sleep, child, tomorrow… work. You need rest." The old woman advised.

Usagi wanted to ask what the work was, and rest was furthest thing in her mind. She wanted to say all these things, but she drifted off to unconsciousness before she even noticed.


	3. Chapter 2 – Demagogue

Chapter Two – Demagogue

Mare Serinitas – Seat of the Empire was a flourishing capital. A large dome enclosed the city, a structure of glass and steel, built in the ages when terraforming was only a mere glimmer in humanity's mind. Sentiment alone kept dome in place, as a relic of the past glories of technology.

Below the dome, buildings great and small built of steel and silicate and asphalt avenues stretched across the wide expanse; and at the center of everything—the Moon Palace.

It stood aloof and glorious against the inky darkness of space looming large and rambling with two large towers it stood aloof and magnificent. It was the only structure that was not under the stricture of the ancient dome.

Before the Moon left the shadow of the Earth Mr. Rogers, owner of a bookshop nestled between alleys, was already awake. He was old and tired and for the briefest of moments entertained the notion to while away the day in bed no sooner had these thoughts crowded his mind, Rogers sat-up and banished them in distaste.

He was a creature of habit by training and inclination.

After a good wash and a change of clothes, he opened his shop at precisely 7:15, as he had done for the past half century. Settling on his chair Rogers stared at the too clean roads and sidewalks. At precisely quarter past seven Rogers heard the hum of the High Guard's patrol vehicle. The High Guards, like him, were also creatures of habit.

Rogers watched the vehicle in silence, an hour later it would be the police's turn to patrol the area. Unbidden Rogers remembered all the people who snorted and dismissively declared that the High Guards were nothing but over glorified policemen. He remembered the anxious days that followed looking for them but he never did see them again.

It was only when the High Guard Patrol passed and Rogers finally felt his shoulder's ease. It was time to prepare for business.

"You're late."

The bland tone of voice annoyed Hailer, he had come a long way from the boy soldier he was, has learned long ago the games required in court and thus his face was equally blank. "My apologies, your Grace."

"Make sure it does not happen again, Colonel." Duke Cho said and turned away presenting his back to Hailer. Hailer rolled his eyes but kept his face neutral when Cho turned to glance at him.

"Lead on, your grace."

Cho frowned at him but stepped forward nonetheless; Hailer nodded to a Palace guard, then paused before the enormous, ornate double doors that led to the royal court. The double doors alone were worth more than three generations of Hailer men could ever afford it was made of flawless silver carved inlaid with rubies, amethysts, and heliotrope and at its center was an immense moonstone cut to the likeness of the Queen.

Slowly, an aperture sliced the moonstone in half, dividing the doors until light spilled from the room beyond the double doors. The buzz of conversation and polite entendres filled the silent halls, then the doors swung fully revealing the magnificence of the court.

Behind the chatter was the music of an orchestra, no doubt summoned by a lord to please his compatriots.

A lord, young with the same arrogant posturing as the other nobles, promptly pounced on the duke. For a moment Hailer pitied Cho but the moment passed when he remembered why he was being forced to join the court this night instead of staying home with his daughter.

"Your Grace!" The young lord said, lilting his voice in probably what he thought as a Majestic Way of Speaking. "How _are_ you?"

"Very well, Lord Lisha."

"I heard you just came from Himalia." Lisha waved his hand, "How was it this time of the year? I was supposed to join my family but other matters arose."

"It was… interesting." Cho said in a far blander tone Hailer's ever heard.

Hailer tuned off the conversation and set a course away before any of the lords noticed his arrival. If he had his way he would have less of these functions, preferring the familiar dangers of battle or preferably the company of his daughter. He didn't like associating with the nobility with their petty games vying for the favor of the Queen… or her bed. His lips compressed with disgust.

"Colonel!" A voice called. Hailer glanced to his side and saw a young woman, some daughter of a noble house he didn't recognize, in a yellow gown approach him. "Congratulations to your victorious campaign."

"Thank you, my lady."

Hailer watched, wary, as the young woman inclined her head. "That is a lovely medal, sir."

_Oh, great. _Hailer immediately began scanning the avenues of retreat.

"I do so like a man in uniform." The young woman leaned forward, as if to brush his jacket of dust. "And dark blue does suit you—"

Hailer caught her wrist and gently pushed it back. "I suggest you pull back. Your play acting has gone far enough, young lady."

She gasped, looking outrage, wearing an expression he knew as the 'You'll be sorry, I'll tell my daddy about you!' look. He didn't say anything more and made his escape, he really hated royal functions. Hailer grimaced with distaste, the girl looked only several years older than his daughter for the goddess' sake! No sooner had he turned away he spotted a tableau of women stalk towards him he scanned the adjoining area for a means of escape.

"Her majesty arrives!" Announced a voice in a sotto voce whisper.

Hailer sent a prayer of thanks for the Queen's timely arrival. There was a sudden scramble as the lords and ladies began to position themselves, the orchestra muted their instruments and dropped to their knees. Hailer breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden silence and advanced to his position beside the steps of the dais.

Even without having to look Hailer knew the exact moment the Queen entered the court. The prickling on the back of his neck told him as much.

The Queen had presence, no doubt. Regal and stately in pale blue gown her cool gaze graced the court, her every step was measured in time with her long Staff of Office she held. Her spun-gold hair was wrapped in accordance to the style of the Royal Moon Family, and her sigil glowed golden on her forehead.

As she passed him, Hailer bowed his head behind the Queen's train were her two most trusted advisors, both carried the Royal sigil, her relation to them wholly unknown.

She ascended the dais, and settled on the throne in one, graceful motion. Hailer felt the Queen's sapphires gaze rest on him, again his skin prickled, then it washed over the courtiers before settling on the magistrate.

"Her Majesty will now seek audience with the court."

Several seeking favor with the Queen stepped forward airing petty complaints, the Queen heard their complaints and dismissed them with succinct statements that committed nothing. The nobles soon caught on to the Queen's mood and fell silent.

Tension tickled Hailer's senses more used to barrage fire than the kind of tension that lurked in the Queen's presence.

"Who is next?" The Queen asked, her impassive gaze sweeping the room.

"I am," A strong clear voice announced. Heads turned to see a young man step forward. _Ah_. Hailer leaned forward this would be interesting.

"It is the young viscount Al' tren Rhy son of the late viscount J'aspe Rhy—"

"I know him, magistrate." The clear, humorless tone diminished any importance the magistrate held in court. "Speak, Lord Al'tren."

"Your Majesty, I have come with concerns regarding your colony in Mars."

"I know whereof you speak, Lord Al'tren, speak of your concerns."

Hailer watched the boy take-in a steadying breath. "Your Highness, currently the situation in Mars is volatile—"

"When has it not been, Lord Al'tren?"

Jeering laughter rose from the courtiers but it fell quickly upon seeing the Queen's quelling stare. Hailer felt for the boy, his embarrassment was palpable, after a long beat Al'tren continued.

"Your majesty the High Guards do nothing but add to the tension. They strike fear to the populace. There has been great demand for the High Guards to withdraw, since Mars has its own Planetary Guard."

"You wish to withdraw the military powers of the empire from Mars?"

In a soft tone of voice that indicated it was far from a question. "Such a young boy you are."

Al'tren flushed. "It is the wish of the people."

"Are there anymore concerns of _my_ people?"

"Yes, your highness, as the court knows Mars has been subject to famine," He faltered, swallowing before continuing. "There are still large areas where food is sorely lacking. We- I request an increase of budget allocation. We are in need of your help, your majesty."

There was a long beat. Beads of sweat began to form on Al'tren's forehead but he continued to eye the Queen, he was a competent young man, if overtly righteous. Hailer respected a man, whom convictions mean more than riches. Poor chap, he will never survive in court, just like his father.

"The request of High Guard removal is denied," the Queen said finally breaking the silence. Al'tren took the blow stoically. "Your request for budget increase is accepted."

A murmur of surprise rose from the courtiers they rose discreetly on their toes to observe the young man, who garnered the Queen's favor.

Shock overcame Al'tren's young face he obviously did not expect the Queen to grant any of his requests. The Queen turned to one of her advisors and whispered to him. The advisor nodded.

"It is done, viscount, Al'tren." She said, a pale smile curving her lips. "Take your blessings when they come, Young lord."

"Th-thank you, your highness."

The Queen inclined her head benignly, dismissing the boy she lifted her gaze from Al'tren and shifted it to the slim, bland figure of the man next to Hailer. "Duke Cho, what of our trade?"

The subject seemed to arrive from nowhere but Hailer felt that the Queen's main purpose hinged on the topic she set forth.

"Trade has gone down considerably due to the recent attacks of the Corsairs," Cho said, taking the jibe in stride. Hailer has yet to see him off guard perhaps the reason why he was the Queen's favored duke.

"Still, Duke? Mere pirates, and still they hound our trade? The Empire's protected ships?" The Queen's eyes bore on Cho, "Colonel Hailer."

He stood at attention, startled. "Your majesty?"

"How is the insurrection on IO prime?"

A dangerous off balanced feeling rushed through him. He knew where this was going but he was sure this was not the reason Duke Cho invited him in court for. He was being pushed into a game he had no desire to participate in. The Queen knew the answer to the question because she herself had presented the new medal on his right breast but the Queen had asked him a question. "It has been crushed, your majesty."

The Queen gave the duke an indulgent, mocking gaze. "Colonel, perhaps you should guide the Duke in the proper handling of rebellious elements."

"Yes, my Queen."

The prickling sensation came over him again her gaze washing over him, cool, precise and measuring. Then she stood a figure of elegance floating away on the cool marble of the Royal Court, not bothering with niceties of court. The courtiers scrambled frantically to curtsy but she was gone.

"The audience is ended." The advisers announced needlessly and followed the path of their Queen.

Demos watched the Queen arrive. She entered the war room, glanced at the eight obsidian pillars running parallel the wall paneled monitors for the briefest of moments before she acknowledged him. "Demos."

He rose from his kneeling position and walked instep beside her.

"Majesty." The other praetors said in unison, rising from their seats and waited for the Queen to take her place before resuming their own. Demos studied his Queen, and once again thought how much she was like a statue than a woman at all with he eyes like chilled sapphire and unreadable face. Her eyes moved from one praetor to the other; Demos held his breath enduring the weight of her stare again the keen urge to flee filled Demos.

Helplessness, fear and loyalty warred fiercely but it was a futile battle, she held their very souls in the palm of her hands. _We praetors_, Demos thought, personally handpicked by the Queen for each of their greed, ambitions and specialties. Immeasurable wealth, seeming immortality, they were become Praetors, creatures whispered in the dark, more than folklore and less than legends. In turn she demanded only their loyalty, their complete and utter loyalty.

"Wolf is a problem," she said without preamble. "He is mocking me, attacking trade ships under the protective flag."

"His pattern of attack is unpredictable," Richter said.

A sudden loud, white explosion pushed against the Praetors, knocking them deeper in their seats. "Note, Richter, my astonishment. I, Praetor, am stunned, incredulous." The Queen mocked, her face still deceptively calm. "_Aghast._"

The silence was thick and forbidding. Only Zen'an the Mad dared speak. "La'O is broken."

"I did not doubt you." The Queen said, releasing them from their invisible stranglehold. "They all break."

Zen'an grinned. It was quick, vicious thing. "La'O sang, majesty, O such pretty verses." He glanced at the others. "He sang of the rebellious cells in each little cavern in Calliope."

"Colonel Hailer appears annoyed losing La'O." Commented Ria.

"The insignificant little High Guard is no concern of mine."

"Is La'O still alive?" Demos asked.

"He lives now only at my behest." Zen'an said and cackled running his fingers across his panel. Before them appeared a tri-dimensional representation of a grotesque large man, beside it were maps and texts flowing from one holographic screen to the other. "He tried suicide, he found to his dismay that I am severely skilled in the art of resuscitation."

A shudder of revulsion and fear passed through the Praetors, they were all of them ruthless but of all of them Zen'an was the only Praetor who enjoyed inducing pain.

"Good," the Queen said, dismissing the grotesque image.

"The other rebellions in Uranus and Saturn are at a head, majesty." Noel said, noticing the Queen's gaze fall on him. "It is primed for extermination."

"That's unwise." Said the silky voice of Artemis --one of the seldom-speaking advisers-- of the gold hair and same crescent likeness of the Queen. His eyes, orbs of blue were blank.

"He is correct." Luna, the dark haired, dark eyed woman concurred. It was expected, when one spoke, the other follows. But that was as far as their contribution went, always.

The Queen seemed amused, a dangerous thing in Demos' experience. "A rebellion is sometimes of use, we can trace its sources, its backers. Quash a rebellion in its infancy valuable information might be lost. The best, easiest way to kill a potentially dangerous rebellion is to let it fester let it exhaust itself until even the staunchest supporter will spurn the cause. They are they are like weeds, the rebels another will sprout in the long run. Why not use it to our advantage? Do you not think so, Noel?"

Noel spluttered.

"I trust this matter will be resolved accordingly? I really do so hate failure." She said, amicable in tone but for the chilling gaze and Demos' sudden awareness of the one empty chair in the table.

"The meeting is adjourned." Luna declared, frowning as if she had a headache. Demos blinked at a sign of expression on her usually blank face.

"Really, Luna?" Demos watched the Queen warily the calmness did not fool him the undercurrent of anger was deep in her voice.

"Yes." This happened on occasion, the dark haired advisor's abrupt decisions in behalf of the Queen. It was at these times that Demos could not help but wonder at Luna and Artemis' relation to the Queen. For who but family would dare speak against the Queen and still live?

"There is nothing more to discuss, highness." Luna clarified.

"Of course, Luna." The serene smile was far from warm. "Leave us."

Demos nodded to the other Praetors and moved away from the table, affording him a view of Zen'an licking his lips, in anticipation even as Demos noted the fear in his eyes.

It was, Demos mused, seeing the reflection of the Queen and her advisers on the obsidian pillars, a strange trinity.

The mines had several levels of underground chambers each level went deeper and deeper into the earth. Usagi knew this because of the glowing neon map posted on the rocky surface parallel on the tunnel entrance. She had stared at it long and hard in incomprehension searching in vain for ways of escape but Usagi couldn't make heads or tails of the map only that the angular lines kept boring down and spreading like wet ink staining paper. The level where Usagi was just a blot of spot on the map at least she could figure out where the level was. Unlike the first few days after her recovery when everything was a blur of movement and the soft _chink-chink_ sounds of picks hitting stone, what she did remember is being sick, or actually how it felt being sick and in pain, twisting in the scratchy sheets seeking warmth and finding only a laughable imitation of heat from the pipes running under her bunk.

The old woman labored to bring her back to health and she did a superb job from what little Usagi remembered snatches of warm, callused hands on her forehead crooning songs that Usagi could barely make out.

So here she was with a pick balanced in her hand studying the craggy ice capped wall. Usagi breathed out, a mist appeared before her, suspended in the air and vanished .She reached out a gloved hand and touched the wall. Even through the glove Usagi could feel the rough texture of the wall, she moved her hand shaking the frost from the wall flecks of ice chipped and fell revealing the rough wall beneath it, gleaming dully in the blue lights.

A guard passed behind her, Usagi stiffened her hand clenching reflexively as she watched the bulky black clad guard make his rounds, he beat his rod on his hand in a rhythm only he could hear as he rounded a corner and vanished from sight, Usagi felt a hitch in her lungs and realized she stopped breathing. She breathed deeply, breathing in the damp cold air.

She raised the pick, felt the twinge of stretched muscle and bruises then completed the arc down to the wall, chips of ice and rock flew around her, the acrid taste of mud and ice filled her mouth Usagi choked and coughed and spat the muck from her mouth.

Usagi wiped the mud from her face she's always hated mud but now she hated it with a passion equaled only by her hate for the stolid blue lights. She hated the gooey way mud clung to everything, how it insinuates into every minute crevice and aperture of her winter clothes; hated how it felt inside her gloves, in her boots, in between her toes. It was worse than frost, which you could ignore and use to your advantage.

A rattling sound roused Usagi from her thoughts wouldn't her friends be surprised ---

Usagi crouched, halted the line of thought and reached for the rocks --the old woman called them silicates-- and threw them on the battered cart. The little girl guiding the levitating cart was flipping a chip of rock up and over and began whistling a jaunty tune so out of sorts with the mines it was incongruous. The little girl was a head taller than Chibi-Usa but her face, streaked with mud was hardly distinguishable a swift sharp pain that had nothing to do with her injuries hit Usagi. She backed a step.

She wanted to cry but found that she couldn't instead she returned to the mining, hitting the rock surface so hard dirt flew fast and heavy. Her friends would rescue her, somehow. It was just a matter of time. Somehow.

"Enough!" A hand stayed her pick, Usagi turned enraged and stopped. She tilted her head up and up suddenly aware of how short she was. A soft buzz sounded through the tunnel. "It's time for a meal."

"Uh… okay." Usagi squeaked weakly. The big man turned from her Usagi sighed in relief and scrubbed her face taking care to avoid the bandage around her head. She hunched her shoulders, her friends would save her 'til then she had to keep her head down, live.

Usagi took her place in line and shouldered the pick. Meanwhile she was hungry.

Anima hung around the entrance of the mess waiting for the girl she hummed a tune and smiled

disregarding the depressed air around most of the prisoners she finally spotted the girl and was relieved to see the bandages were still in place, it was hard to avoid infection in this place but the least she could do was reduce the chances of gangrene. Anima lifted her hand and waved. The girl returned her wave and broke from the line.

"Anima-sama?" The girl said in that strange way of hers. It took a while nursing the girl back to health and through that time spent in constant vigil Anima learned that the girl didn't speak the galactic common. It was a revelation there was not a planet in the system that didn't use Lunaris as the galactic common, the

Queen's mandate has seen to that.

"Our table, girl." The girl nodded. Another conundrum despite not speaking Lunaris she understood it perfectly. Anima had a feeling that the girl was far more perplexed than Anima in this regard. The girl followed her to the table. Jep saw them approached and promptly elbowed the others to make space.

Anima shimmied into the space, taking a moment to appreciate the heat radiating from the food spread before them.

"'Taters and beef today, grams." Informed Jep, handing the wooden bowl to Anima. The bowl slipped into her welcoming hands she sighed at the delicious warmth, good for her old bones. She piled the tater's on her plate and passed it on to the girl. The girl took the bowl and showing more enthusiasm in that one moment than she had for months, Anima's eyes widened at the amount of 'taters the girl stacked on her plate.

The girl must be famished after weeks of mashed tater's and soup. It was a good thing the girl was last in the queue.

The other occupants of the table glanced at each other before Jep pushed the meat platter. Anima didn't miss Jep's fleeting perusal of the girl, Anima took the food without comment and launched topics at random the other occupants of the table joined in the talk, drawing them from their quiet shells, anything to keep them from noticing the girl eating quietly beside her.

Usagi listened with half an ear to Anima's chatter as far as she was concerned it was background noise, everything was background noise nowadays. Days, that's funny in a kind of twisty way that's not. At least the food was warm and edible and when she didn't try too hard to make out the taste, delicious.

Her wrist hurt, Usagi visualized the wound underneath the swaths of bandage and cloth pockmarked into a shape she traced every sleep cycle staring at nothing when all her tears had dried or froze.

C175.

How many names did she have now? Four? One? Or Two?

Usagi and C175.

What was taking them so long? Shouldn't they be kicking down the doors and rescuing her? Mamoru needed her and the Crystal. Where were her friends?

Someone laughed she raised her head from the food and saw the people on her table laughing and Anima leading the laughter. Usagi's mind went blank at this burst of noise the mere fact that they could laugh didn't make sense.

There was a dynamic at work in the prison mine that she had yet to understand it was like there were two breeds of prisoners in the mines. The first breed was just like the men and women in the next table, hunched shoulders, pinched faces with a cloud of desperation Usagi knew all too well.

Then there were the people in this very table just like the man who stopped her from going berserk. People with straight backs people who laughed in this dim blue hell.

"Are you going to eat that?" Inquired the boy opposite her.

Usagi blinked. "Um."

"You've had your fill, Tiel." Anima said with a frown.

"She's not eating!" Anima raised an eyebrow. "Well, sure she was siphoning the food but that was seconds ago and the heat… fine, how about three matchsticks for a piece of beef and two taters."

Usagi blinked. "Three matchsticks?"

The boy, Tiel, brought out four thin sticks and held it before her. "Alright, four."

Usagi looked at Anima helplessly. The old woman shook her head, swatted at Tiel's hand and said. "Leave her be, Tiel. You're wasting currency here."

Tiel grumbled but wasn't dissuaded, instead he turned to his seatmate. "Jep, you're a reasonable—"

"Nope."

Tiel sighed. "Fine."

Usagi suddenly giggled. Almost immediately, the occupants of her table turned to look at her, she hunched her shoulders. "Sorry."

Jep waved his hand. "No, it's good. I thought it would take you longer than that to finally get a smile out of you."

"What?"

"Ignore them, child and eat." Anima said, "You've lost a lot of meat on you and I'll be damned if you lose more. Go on." Her stomach took the moment to announce its existence with a loud grumble. "See? Even your insides agree."

Usagi really needed no prompting, it was _food_, after all. She scooped a big chunk of mashed potato before Anima who looked on satisfied and ate.

The meal ended with a soft buzz, the guards began to round them up. "Back to the grind again," Tiel said, sounding jaunty and unconcerned. Usagi stared at him but Anima had patted her back then pushed her.

"Not to sound cantankerous, child, but you're holding up the line."

Usagi blushed and walked on, taking her pick from a guard and found herself walking back to the hell that had become her life. When the work hours finally ended and they were finally allowed to leave the accursed mines Usagi fell boneless in her bunk, every muscle in her body screaming in pain, her mind too numb and all she could do was stare at the engravings notched above the piping above her. She ran her hand over it once, felt the rough grain and counted the number of notching. There were fifty all in all, before whoever it was who occupied this bunk before her, had stopped counting the years he was imprisoned here.

It should have sent a chill down her spine, but the damn mine was too cold that she either wasn't able to distinguish between fear and cold anymore, or probably she just didn't care. Her forehead itched, and she reached up to scratch it but the bandage obstructed her. Usagi sighed.

Instead, she traced the burn mark on her arm, a new habit. She slipped her fingers inside the loose bindings and felt the grooves on her skin. This was her 'identity' the writing both alien and familiar (again the familiarity tickled her mind) it read: C175.

"Stop that." Admonished Anima, somewhere beside her.

"I will, if you could remove this." Usagi touched the bandage on her forehead. She didn't know if Anima could see her in the dark but Usagi wouldn't put it past her. "It itches."

"Once your wounds are healed I will remove it and not until then." Anima said.

What use would it be anyway, Usagi wanted to say but didn't, she was too tired to argue, tomorrow would be the same thing, until the day her friends finally found her. She tried not to think how long that would be accomplished or the gaping well of emptiness inside her. Usagi turned over and murmured good night even if she didn't mean it.

The girl didn't sleep Anima didn't really expect her to, not after enduring week after week of the girl's quiet sobs that went for her sleep but Anima answered in kind, more to the intention and not the spirit.

There were decisions to be made. Anima studied the silhouette of the girl, remembered the soft hands that were now callused. No one remained as they were but somehow Anima could not quite reconcile it with the girl without a measure of sadness.

In the gloom, watching and listening to the mourning of a life once lived Anima came to a decision. She would never know the wheels she set in motion, the lives changed with a decision she determined. She knew only of the girl, of the cold and the crescent sigil hidden under a strip of cloth. But then she was only a woman. What did she know of the games that were set in motion centuries before she was even born?


	4. Chapter 3 – Walk between dark and da

Chapter Three – Walk between dark and dark

This was all Seth's fault, Tellis thought running past the empty decrepit buildings in the Istaro Sector. The forbidden Istaro sector. She glanced at one of the buildings that probably served as barracks, a legacy from when Morpheus Station was a military installation. The buildings were of uniform design the High Guard never had much imagination, even then. Concrete slabs of gray with square cutouts for windows, which in the simulated dark of the station, was very creepy.

She shivered, remembering despite herself all the ghost stories associated with this sector. Tellis increased her pace, darting glances around the area, afraid. The loafers and wannabe rebels were long gone, whatever rebellious attitude they projected dissipates with the mere mention of High Guard. Not that she blamed them.

She really shouldn't be here.

She cursed Seth again if it weren't for him she would still be in the club partying safe from the curfew. Kai was right about Seth, that two-timing insect. She'd really been looking forward to the Himalia trip. Worm faced bastard.

Then again, she shouldn't have left in the first place, or she could have hitched a ride but that was n unlikely scenario. It was edging towards curfew when she stormed out of Dystopia and as a general rule it was better locked inside than caught outside.

But she'd gotten so angry she'd dumped the ice cold mug of beer on his head and marched to the streets and by the time she realized what she'd done she was walking halfway through the Istaro Sector. Tellis thought of her hotel and despaired, Arado Sector was five miles travel on foot, she'd be lucky if she even got out of this section of the Istaro Sector.

An unexpected noise, like a creak of metal and something else quickened her heartbeat. She wrapped her jacket closer to her and ran. She really should have waited in the club she wasn't native to Morpheus she'd only visited it during the summers the business trips she accompanied her foster father. Foster.

She pushed aside her bitter anger, this was neither the time nor the place. She had to get away from this sector before the police or the High Guards start sweeping in. She checked her watch and almost froze, only a few minutes to curfew.

Tellis braved a glance at the buildings and wondered if she could hide in one of the buildings.

It was then, over the hum of gravitation generators, Tellis heard the patrol vehicles round the corner. Her heart leapt, Tellis glanced around and chose to brave fate and ran to one of the buildings pushing open a rusted door.

The smell of urine and decay hit Tellis and she would have wretched but she didn't have time, instead she ran up the steps stumbling over a boot, some fatigues and almost fell when the rotted wood gave and her right foot plunged in the hole. The splinters bit through her pants and into skin, she pulled at her leg and fell sideways towards the wall her pants were torn and bloodied and when she placed some weight on her foot pain snaked up, Tellis winced and persevered. Limping and bleeding, she miraculously managed to reach the second floor she ran full tilt into a room, slammed the door shut and slid down. She brought a hand to her face and realized she was shaking all over.

How did she get herself into this?

The sound of her blood rushing in her ears was oddly louder than the klaxon of the alarm. Tellis offered a prayer to the goddess, futile as it was. She looked up and stopped breathing.

A red beam played along the ceiling of the room, she turned her head. The High Guards _were_ thorough. She could see just from the corner, the levitating patrols scanning each floor.

There was no escape. She was going to prison, or maybe they'd just kill her. A sense of the inevitable came over her. She was going to die.

"…here."

Tellis jumped and almost hit the red beam a woman was standing on the threshold of a door she hadn't seen earlier.

"In here." The woman repeated. "Unless you wish to be caught?"

Tellis scrambled over to the woman and was glad she did at that exact moment the red beam descended on the spot she was sitting on. "Oh, goddess!" She exclaimed in a rush of breath.

The woman caught her hand and pulled her over the threshold, the door closed behind them. She gasped in pain she took a moment to orient herself and saw the woman lean on a tall staff Tellis didn't register before then she moved past Tellis, the woman's long hair swished behind her like a cape. She paused and said as an after thought, without looking back. "Follow me."

Tellis caught up to the woman, they were a limping sorry pair. "Won't the scans detect us?" She whispered.

"The scan won't penetrate the door, we're safe." The woman didn't even bother to whisper, or look at her. Tellis suddenly had an uneasy feeling about this woman, remembering in a flash all the ghost stories her _aya_ used to tell her about the Istaro sector.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe."

Not a conversationalist, her savior, or ghost her mind provided. Tellis leaned on the walls when her ankles started protesting. The hallway was very military and very boring, she judged, seeing only an endless path of unrelieved gray. This might be one of the secret rooms the High Guard neglected to destroy during the rebellion 50 years ago.

Adrenaline in her blood and past the crisis, inside the safety of the walls Tellis felt the tentative steering of joy. She was alive. She had eluded the High Guard. She grinned and very nearly bumped into her savior, who had stopped and looked at her with narrow ruby colored eyes. "Don't make a habit of this."

"It's not my idea of Sabbath fun." She assured and frowned, noting the pallor of her companion. "You don't look so good."

The woman aimed a pointed look at Tellis's leg but didn't comment instead she entered a door to the left, Tellis shrugged and followed, feeling oddly unsettled.

"We'll be safe here." The woman said.

The room suffered the same lack of imagination as the hallway, even the lights were gray toned. It wasn't completely bare, though, there were some furniture scattered around Tellis limped to the nearest chair and was astonished to find that not only was the chair in good condition, they were also antique.

"These are all made of wood!"

"Yes."

"This is real wood!"

"Yes."

Tellis frowned, the woman didn't seem to get the point and decided to clarify. "No one's used real wood for over a hundred years!"

"Oh?"

Was she not conveying it right? "It's banned, ever since the forests in Mars were destroyed." Off the woman's blank look. "During the, I don't know, one of many rebellions in Mars?"

"I see." The woman said, Tellis wondered why she even bothered. "We don't have much time."

"Time? For what, grow trees?"

"Your very sarcastic, Miss Ara." That wasn't the first time someone called her that, but the woman looked positively befuddled, it was almost comical…

Tellis felt herself go pale, her heart pounded and she scrambled off her seat, pulling the injured muscle in her leg. "How did you know my name?"

"It doesn't matter." The woman said, "We have to—"

"It matters a whole damn lot!" Tellis looked at the woman noting the woman's sallow skin. "Are you a ghost?"

"No. Not yet."

"Yet? What does that--"

"Cease speaking!" The woman ordered and Tellis did. "We don't have time. I don't want any interruptions, Tellis Ara." She glared when Tellis opened her mouth. "Take that watch by that table, beside you."

Tellis did as she was told under the threat of the woman's glare. She frowned at the object on the table it didn't look like any watch she's ever seen. It was a circular, flat object mounted on a silver chain, the edges were intricately etched with designs that brought to mind the glories of the fabled Ancient Silver Millenium. Inside the glass covering were two tiny black bars pointing at numbers.

"It's ancient!"

"Imagine that." The dry tone made her look up at the woman. She was swaying and leaned on the staff in a way that indicated that it was the only thing that was keeping her upright.

"You really don't look good."

"I don't feel well." The woman smiled weakly and as sudden the smile bled away. "You have to go."

"What?"

The woman's head was cocked to the side, listening. Tellis copied her and heard, to her horror, footsteps echoing in the hallway.

"You must leave!" The woman looked frantic, "Take the watch with you."

"What about you?" The woman hobbled next to her and took a surprisingly strong grip on her arm. "I said what about you!"

"I have my ways." The reply was enigmatic but the movements were not, she was guiding Tellis further into the room. "Go!"

"Where? There's no where to go, the curfew is still in effect!"

The woman didn't answer instead she shoved Tellis through a door. A door that Tellis was sure was not there a moment ago. A sliver of fear went through her but before she could react she was past the door. A hand clamped on her shoulder she shrieked and batted the hand away.

"Tellis?"

She stopped struggling, looked around and blinked. The room entered she was a far cry from the gray room she was in, this room was alive with color and furnished in the latest fashion and by all the rules of logic shouldn't be here.

Wide-eyed she whipped her gaze from one end of the room to the other fell briefly on Kai. Dependable, all around guy, Kai who shouldn't be here, like this room. Tellis crossed the room, ignored Kai and threw open the curtains and gaped at the impossible view of the Arado Sector sparkling in the simulated night of the Morpheus station and just at the edge, miles away punctuated with abandoned buildings was the Istaro Sector.

In a room that did not belong to any sector, space station or time the woman watches the door close. She is tired and will die soon. _Are you a ghost?_

The room shifts, returns to what it is and she falls to her knees drained of strength.

"There you are." A voice says. "Have you been naughty?"

The woman, who is the Guardian of Time does not turn she knows who speaks. "Why are you doing this?"

"You of all people should know, Pluto." The voice is mild then shifts, to a brittle tone. "But then you might have _forgotten_."

It is then Pluto turns, sees her princess.

"I've captured the others, I was disappointed, hardly a challenge."

"You're mad."

"I am." Amused.

"I'm sorry."

There is a moment, Pluto sees, of something, grief perhaps, but the moment passes. "I'm not."

"And now, I think it's time, my dear Pluto, for you to die." The princess raises her hand and Pluto is covered with living white flames. Before the last gasp the fading of her being. Pluto remembers the girl and how different she turned out. Pluto fancies, amidst the pain, the dissolution of a planned dream, a voice: _Return to me, daughter of Cronus and be reborn_.

And she is dead.


	5. Chapter 4 – Anastasis

Chapter four – Anastasis

The order came shortly after Raff stuck the last spoonful of steak in his mouth.

"Sgt. Romero!"

Beside him Gin snickered. "You're up again, Raff. Who'd you piss off?"

Raff hit him upside the head then pushed off the table. "Sir?"

Lieutenant Iber marched down the aisle his artic suit without any sign of silt or dirt. Three months tops he'd be out of here and in a new command that'll be a damn sight warmer than this frozen hell.

Raff forced his scowl down, he'd been on guard duty since 0600 hours he didn't need more to do. His artic suit was acting-up and his feet ached, also the damn blue lights were driving him ape shit.

He didn't sign-up for the Planetary Guards to end-up on guard duty for this death trap.

"There's a supply caravan arriving in 1500 hours," Lt. Iber had a man to man expression on his face that made Raff uneasy. "Pick eight men, you'll play escort. Prisoner transfer to Galag 7."

That was just dandy. Galag 7 was about eight hours land time, and Raff suspected, it _would_ be land travel. Risking flight in this storm season was suicide.

"Sure pick the good one's, don't you, sarge?" Gin said after the good lieutenant exited the mess.

The other soldiers round the table guffawed. Raff turned an annoyed glare at the laughing soldiers, their

faces shadowed in the gloom. Three weeks 'til his leave, Raff told himself. Meantime... "You're right, Gin I can sure pick 'em. Is why you and these three clowns are goin' to pack your bags. Y'all can join my misery."

The laughter ended abruptly and Raff walked away smiling.

There were five names and profiles in the slim. Sometimes he wondered about the prisoners, who they were what they did to end-up in this godforsaken hell.

There were one or two faces in the crowd of dirt stained and desolate faces that stood out that brought to mind a powerful ruling house that vanished. But mostly Raff tried not to see anything familiar in their faces, better that way, easier.

Sometimes.

He'd entered the prison quarters with Gin and Seram guns and rods cocked and ready. Desperate and angry prisoners were dangerous prisoners.

The prison quarters were dark on purpose, a crazy, psychotic purpose but he could be wrong. Raff slapped the rod engaging the light function.

Three beams of light cut a swath in the dark, motes of dust danced and tumbled as they moved their light this way and that. The glare caught dirt stained faces and occasionally eyes that glittered in the face of the flare. The two men with him moved forward and he followed checking the bunk numbers.

"Shit!" Raff jerked to a stop, for a second his heart stopped beating as something he took for a bed post moved and detached itself and into the light. "Gods on a stick! Stop with the sneaking!"

"May I be of service?" The old woman said, nonplussed.

Raff scowled and waved to Gin to stand down. He did and so did Seram they were both familiar with the old bat.

"None of your business." He said but the old woman shifted her head to the side and he remembered the old woman's leathery hand on his forehead, fever shaking him so hard he didn't need to be told he was dying. That was before Doc Hep called for her.

She was one of the best doctors in Mars, Hep told him and still was. Otherwise he wouldn't be here glaring at her, would he? So he caved and said: "Prison transfer."

There was a change in her expression that made him lift the light to the rusting plaque of the bunk next to her.

The red-orange rust ate through the plaque but the alpha numeric shone in the light: C175.

"Don't," she implored in a soft tone.

"I got my orders," Raff said finding it difficult to look her in the eye. "Gotta do my job."

Gin shone his light at the prone figure on the bunk it was a girl but the dirt and the strip of cloth that served as a bandage on her forehead made her as indistinguishable from the other prisoners.

"Let me," The old woman stepped into the light blocking their view of the girl. She shook prisoner C175 lightly, the girl stirred and jerked on seeing them but the old bat held her shoulders and said something Raff didn't catch.

C175 embraced the old woman and rose but not before Raff saw a suspicious glistening in her eyes.

Seram stepped forward and cuffed C175's wrist. Raff noted a huge fading yellow bruise on her cheek and lowered his light. "C'mon, we're outta time."

She was being transferred it could be random Usagi's seen a few dragged away and never seen again but there was something in the purposeful stride of the guards that made Usagi think otherwise.

Even Anima, who Usagi had seen talk a guard out of beating a person to death, couldn't do anything. So here she was dragged by her forearms and thrown unceremoniously to the vehicle. She didn't complain she was used to falling flat on her face without any help from anyone. They walked through corridors that were better carved than the mines Usagi was used to. The ground was even with the occasional out crop of rock that made her stumble, the support beams looked sturdier than the tacked on iron bar she was accustomed.

She glanced up and saw light bulbs, naked and projecting the same depressing blue found everywhere.

She and the guards met-up with the others; five guards, three prisoners.

The guards greeted each other with a nod then bullied them into a rickety elevator that made Usagi doubt its stability.

"Got any problem with yours, sarge?"

The tall lanky man with a broken nose stabbed at a button. "Eyes front, 'Dro."

The elevator doors screeched to a close, gears clicked and then they were being launched upwards by the grind and kick of the elevator. No one spoke, not until the sergeant pulled on a helmet and said.

"Helmets on."

The guards tossed extra helmets and gloves to Usagi and her fellow prisoners, the helmet was smooth and cold and it looked like a rejected head of a bug-eyed monster. But then Anima made her promise to follow the guards orders so she put it over her head and almost choked at the foul air in the helm and the way it _clung_ to her face. It was suffocating.

And she was being pushed out the elevator and instantaneously halted from the skin flaying cold.

Usagi was not alone in this, she could see through the muggy fish eye lenses the guards and other prisoners stop short and hug themselves under the neon blue lights.

"I hate above level!" Expressed the sergeant and proceeded to swear up a storm that made Usagi blush.

The further they went the colder it got every step was punctuated by chattering teeth and shaking.

Another guard with bulkier winter clothes met them. "Into the transport!"

Usagi clambered on the platform on her hands and knees, shaking so hard her fisheye worldview very nearly made her sick.

The others followed her in, huddling together as soon as they entered. Then her blurry blue world faded to darkness with the clicking of the door lock.

"I think we can take these things off," a muffled voice said that gradually turned to a clear deep voice. "It's not as cold."

Usagi hesitated for a second, inhaled the stale air and gagged before she removed her own. The air in the transport wasn't any better it smelled like burned wires but it was far better than the suffocating helmet. There were shouts and a sudden jerking rumble and over the din Usagi heard the hum of the heat generators.

"And we're off." The clear, deep voice said. Usagi stared toward the direction of the voice, it was hard to tell who was with her, there was no such illumination in the transport. Usagi wasn't quite sure she should be glad of this development but it was a break from the hellish blue lights, so that was something.

There were rustling and a hiss as decompressed air escape from the helmets. The other prisoners finally joined the circle of the helmetless. There was something tugging at her, below the breastbone, she pressed her right fist to her stomach, when was the last time she ate?

"Where are they taking us?" Usagi asked and clenched her jaw after to keep from shaking.

"It doesn't matter where they'll bring us," began an old, bitter voice, so different form the clear voice of the young man sitting opposite Usagi. "It'll still be hell."

That… wasn't what Usagi wanted to hear. The young man opposite Usagi stirred, she felt something ghost over her face Usagi pulled back in surprise.

"Don't mind him," the young man whispered to her, his breath tickling her ear. "He's just being a nasty ol' fart."

"It's alright." Usagi said, feeling a hitch on her breastbone. She tapped the area with her closed fist again. "Where did you come from?"

"What?" The young man pulled back, in the gloom Usagi could make out a figure sitting on his haunches. A blush crept its way up again and Usagi had to hastily say:

"I'm Usagi, by the way."

The transporter rocked and swayed, there was a low grumble from the three other prisoners but they remained quite. Stupid. Idiot. Of all of the harebrained ideas—

"_What's your name?"_

"_N-nothing. I have no name." _

"_You are now the property of Her Majesty the Queen, you no longer exist outside of these mines. You are now C175, do you understand?"_

No. Names.

Not outside of the company that Anima provided.

"I'm Eli." Came the answer, and Usagi felt her breath slide out of her, felt her shoulders ease as she realized her error won't gain punishment.

Suddenly there was a loud, loud explosion and the world turned upside down a startled shout worked its way out of Usagi's mouth as another loud explosion toppled her once more onto the young man and then off again as the whole transporter rocked and she hit the ceiling, which was only moment's ago, the floor. "What's going on?"

"We're being attacked!" Eli shouted over the din. The other prisoners were also screaming, curling into themselves. "We won't survive if they puncture this side of the transport!"

And it did.

Freezing air swept in, it was colder than anything Usagi had ever felt. Cold bit through what little protection the suit offered. She could barely feel her arms and legs. Breathing was hard, air was fire in her lungs.

"C-come c-c-closer." Someone said. An arm pulled her into an embrace but it was a useless. The cold was everywhere, flaying her insides, her exposed face. She could feel her face start to freeze.

Her teeth chattered, clicking together so fast she imagined it would break and shatter. Usagi tried clenching her teeth but she shook so much it hardly seemed worth the effort. Her face, her face _burned_ with the cold. Where was her helmet? Her hand flailed in search for the helmet, pulling away from the embrace, gasping as the cold flayed her throat, her lungs.

Her eyes were weighted down and her whole body felt heavy. She tried to move her hand but it felt like she was carrying lead and she felt… she felt so sleepy… A languid calm overcame her, why was she fighting this? Why not let go? She's been so tired and alone and Mamo-chan could be dead… Usagi's head lolled to the side, let go…

_**No!**_

Her numbed mind could not register the words but the voice resonated through every fiber of her body and she jerked, gasped, her lungs burned. **_Mamo-chan? I'm coming…._**

_**Not yet!**_

Her vision phased out and then, suddenly, she was in the Moon gardens, the grass greener than ever and from above, she saw the Earth hanging, compacted in ice and glass. The very sight chilled her, she turned away she couldn't take seeing the planet she loved so much look so… dead.

There she saw the senshi far away from her, unnaturally still. She could see, clearly, Venus's arm raised a cup in hand and Mercury who was pouring the tea from a silver pot. The liquid was suspended, frozen.

But none of it mattered because _he_ was there robed in his Prince's armor, looking strong and healthy and so very far from dead. A sobbed rose from her and she flung herself to him. He caught her, strong arms circling around her.

"I'm finally with you."

"No, my love, you can't be here yet."

Usagi looked up at him, stricken. "Why? You have no idea how hard it is…"

"You can't die." His embrace was strong, with a hint of desperation. "I won't let you."

"What?"

Endymion looked down at her, intense and willing her to understand something she couldn't understand, then he lowered his head and whispered to her. He was telling her… secrets, names, words and purposes for a brief moment she understood and her eyes went wide but then his voice grew softer and his hold less tangible and she was straining, trying to keep him in place but his words seemed so far away… and she was being….

_One more time! One… two… three!_

wrenched away.

_Again!_

Usagi gasped out loud, her throat constricting, her chest hurt. Air was fire in the lungs… and there was something hard, a mask on her face, air rushed in on her, forcing her to breathe.

Mamo-chan was gone again, and she was alone, still here in this life…

"She's revived." A voice said, muffled with something. It was then she realized she wasn't alone, she looked around, in fact she wasn't even in the transporter. She was in a cave filled with the hellish blue lights but instead of black clad guards she was surrounded by white, fur clad men with the similar masked helm with rifles trained at her.

"What—" She began then felt a sharp blade braced under her throat.

"Congratulations, you're alive again." The person with the knife to her throat told her. "Now, give us a valid reason why we shouldn't have kept you dead?"

Usagi cowered as the biggest man in the group, the leader, advanced towards her. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her up, dislodging the fur covering, and she dangled a foot from the floor.

"Why do you look like the Queen?" He asked, his voice rasping like an overused microphone.

"Answer, are you her daughter?" The hold on her wrist was unbearable. Usagi knew beyond doubt that this big bear of a man could, if he chose, break her arm with no effort.

Yet amid her fear Usagi felt the glimmerings of anger she raised her eyes and defiantly stared at the masked face. She jerked her hand away and glared at masked man.

Usagi blinked, bleary eyed death fogged, felt the mask on her face, warming her. She stared up at the masked face of her knife wielding savior and laughed, laughed hard, laughed so much it hurt, and laughing she launched herself to her guard, pouncing on him. He fell on his back, she braced herself on top of him and wrapped her hands on his knife hand, pressing it deeper on her throat, drawing blood.

"You want to kill me? Come on kill me!"

"Are you mad!" Screamed the man beneath her.

"Why not?" Usagi stopped laughed and hissed. "Since I woke-up in this blue hell I've been beaten, branded and enslaved. Getting killed isn't anything new. Heck, it'll do me a favor!"

"We don't want you dead!"

"Could have fooled me!"

"We were curious."

"About what?"

"You look like the queen, we wanted to know _why_!"

Usagi went still. The other guards came forward, their guns aimed at her head she ignored them. "What queen? Where am I?"

"What?" The man asked.

"Where am I? What did you mean I look like the queen?"

"You really are mad! What do you mean where are you? You're in a cave."

Usagi twisted his arm, felt the blade bite into her throat. "Stop being smart and answer me!"

"You're in the slave planet of Charon."

"Charon." Usagi repeated, her mind twisting from one corner and the other. "Charon. You mean, the satellite moon of Pluto."

"What else?" It was hard to tell what her captive's expression was but she was sure he was sneering.

"How long has this queen been ruling?"

"Are you for real? She's been ruling for three hundred years."

Usagi's hand was nerveless. Three hundred years. Everyone she knew was dead. Everyone. The ice cream man, her parents, Shingo, Motoki. Everyone.

No. This wasn't how it's supposed to happen. "You're lying!" She screamed, dropping his arm and wrapping her hands on his throat. "You're lying!"

"Why should I lie to you!" Screamed the man, his throat working under her hands.

"Because you're evil!"

"The only evil in here is you!"

Three hundred years. Charon. Time Gates. Then his words registered in her mind. She recoiled, jumped away from him, saw the guns track her.

"I'm not evil." She whispered.

The man stood-up, "You have the face of the tyrant queen."

She clutched her head, shaking. Her throat was so dry she had to work to swallow, heard her heart pound so loud it was amazing the others didn't hear it. "What queen?"

"You should know, shouldn't you? You have her face." The man said, his voice scratchy like a back feed of a microphone, probably because of the mask. "What's your relation to her?"

"Show me the queen."

The man didn't move.

Usagi removed the mask on her face, "Please."

Finally, the man moved his head, there was movement behind Usagi, she turned and stopped, when suddenly a flash of something appeared before her then the light formed into a familiar figure that couldn't possibly be.

She looked down, saw the shoes, stiletto, white; the soft blue gown; the long, long staff of office held by slim fingers; then the head held by a long swan like neck and then the face—Usagi gasped. She went around the hologram. The woman could be her, the face, the crescent sigil, the distinctive hairstyle that was the mark of the Royal Moon Family.

But it wasn't her.

Circling around it, floodgates of memory opened in her mind and she was lost in the past, couldn't believe that she had forgotten something so important.

"Do you remember now?"

"Yes." She stopped directly behind the image, looking through identical blue colored eyes. "I remember now. This is my sister. Celeste."

Notes: Anastasis – Gk. resurrection


End file.
